Chuck Versus the Wilderness
by Steampunk.Chuckster
Summary: Nerd Herd supervisor Chuck Bartowski is overworked, overwrought, tired, and in a rut. But when he signs up for a group camping trip to get himself out of said rut, it turns out to be a lot more than just a simple vacation. One-shot AU. Chuck and Sarah.


**Chuck Versus the Wilderness**

 **By Steampunk . Chuckster**

 **Summary:** Nerd Herd supervisor Chuck Bartowski is overworked, overwrought, tired, and in a rut. But when he signs up for a group camping trip to get himself out of said rut, it turns out to be a lot more than just a simple vacation.

 **A/N:** So I wrote this one-shot AU idea awhile ago, thanks to an anon sending me a request on Tumblr. And I thought I'd finally toss it onto this site so everyone could read it! As for now, it is only a one chapter deal. I have so many other stories I need to focus on. SO MANY. (But...who knows, really? Let's be honest.)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own CHUCK, I don't own these characters...and I don't own the San Bernardino mountains, those belong to everybody!

* * *

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!"

Chuck clung to his duffel bag shoved up under his arm, trying to ignore the pain from his massive, full camping backpack slamming repeatedly against his tailbone as he sprinted across the rest of the parking lot to the shuttle that was supposedly taking them the rest of the four hour journey to the campsite.

If he missed this shuttle, he was out way too much money for a guy who worked at the Buy More for $13 an hour.

They said in the brochure not to be late. And of course he was.

 _Crap!_

But thank God the shuttle door reopened as he neared the vehicle and he slowed down significantly, skidding to a halt at the steps.

A man who looked ten or so years older than Chuck appeared at the top of the steps. "You must be Bartowski, huh?"

Chuck could forgive him the small smirk, but he wasn't sure he was willing to forgive him for looking like he probably went to the gym five times a day, and his stubble was damn perfect. Unforgivable. Chuck wished he could stubble like that. Instead, he just let out a breath in relief and nodded.

The guide chuckled and waved him up the steps. "Get on in here, bro. I'm Quentin. I'll be taking you into the deepest darkest depths of hell. Ha ha! Naw, I'm just playin', bro. Find a seat. There are, like…a lot."

Chuck was thumped on the back in a gesture that reminded him a lot of his sister's boyfriend, and in fact, Quentin looked a lot like Captain Awesome. Chuck fancied he liked the guy already because of it, in spite of the way he basically rubbed in the fact that he was fitter than everybody on the bus simply by existing.

Scooting past the people who were on the bus, he realized there were only ten of them, himself included, on a shuttle that seated at least four times that. Bro Quentin made eleven. The driver was twelve.

For a moment, Chuck imagined that scene from _Forrest Gump_ when little Forrest wants to sit down on the school bus and the other kids won't let him sit down. _Seat's tayyyken._

But then he moved all the way to the back, not really in the mood to engage in conversation with what looked like a small group of forty-somethings on a double date that was more of a camping trip double date. Not the coolest way to take your spouse on a vacation. Or maybe it was and he just wasn't as experienced in…coupling.

Chuck distractedly lifted his duffel up to shove it in the overhead bin above where he meant to sit. But just as he closed the bin and swung his backpack off his shoulders to throw into the row of seats, the bus driver slammed his foot on the gas and sent Chuck stumbling.

He yelped and tried to grab for the seats, but his hands slipped on the fabric and he plopped into the row of seats across from where he'd meant to sit.

There was a sharp gasp as he landed on something surprisingly soft.

As he opened his eyes and looked up, he realized that was because his head had landed in someone's lap. And not just someone, but an incredibly beautiful someone. At least, she was beautiful upside down. He scrambled up from her lap, with her pushing a little on his shoulders to help, her eyes just about as wide as he knew his were at the moment.

And yes, she was just as beautiful right side up. No, even better than beautiful. He thought maybe he'd crashed his car while racing to the parking lot where they were all supposed to meet Bro Quentin and the shuttle, and now he was in the shuttle that would take him to Heaven. She was probably one of his angel guides.

Did that make Bro Quentin an angel guide, too? Did angels say 'bro'?

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, pushing a hand through his dark curls. "I wasn't…I thought he'd let me at least sit first."

A small smile appeared on her pretty face as she sat back in her seat, and then she pursed her lips and twisted them to the side a little. "That's probably the most original pick-up I've ever experienced."

Chuck went white as a sheet. "N-No, I wasn't—I didn't—That's not what that was. I fell. I really…" He let out a long breath and chuckled as he realized by the look on her face that she was teasing him. "Oh. Right. Still. I apologize."

"It's okay," she said with a small giggle, waving her hand. "It woke me up."

"Right at the beginning of a four hour drive in which you'll probably want to be asleep, greeeat," he droned sarcastically, shaking his head. "I'm a jack-ass. Seriously, I'm so sorry."

"No, really. It's okay." She smiled in a friendly manner and leaned down to pick her book up from the floor where he'd probably knocked it when he fell on top of her. He was such a freaking klutz. And he was still drowning in his own mortification. Not just because she was unbelievably beautiful, with big blue eyes, long, flowing blond hair, and full lips. But because this was only the beginning of what would be an entire week of camping with this stunning woman, and he just _knew_ he was going to think about this every time he had to speak to her now.

"Well…thanks." …he guessed. Was thank you even appropriate? He supposed so. She could have screamed and gotten him thrown off the shuttle. But she was being a good sport.

She simply smiled in response and opened her book, thumbing through it to find her place again, he figured. And then he reached over to grab his backpack to move a little further towards the front of the bus, if only so that she didn't have to look at him.

He was such an idiot. And he felt her eyes on him as he moved, tossing his backpack over to the window seat and slumping down next to it, burying his face in his hands and staying that way for most of the drive.

 **}o{**

"Bears."

Chuck jumped and spun to regard her as she came up beside him. "What?"

"The net. You put your food in it and hang it in a tree so that bears can't get clean you out." At some point during the bus ride, she had braided her hair, probably out of boredom, and it looked so good. In her hiking boots and khaki shorts, the blue and black plaid shirt she wore, sleeves rolled up to her elbows…it really brought out her eyes. And the shirt was baggy…like it was a man's shirt. _Her_ man's shirt?

She probably had a boyfriend. And he hated that the first thing he did was glance down at her left hand where she was holding onto the strap of her backpack to see if there was a ring.

There wasn't.

He was a giant jerk for being happy about that. Still didn't mean she was single. Not that it mattered a lick, because what on Earth would make her find him appealing in any way, especially after that fiasco of a first meeting on the bus.

Contrary to what romantic comedies told everybody, that wasn't how great romances began.

"I read that doesn't work, though," he said, glad she was at least talking to him.

She huffed with a shrug, her eyes meeting his. "It doesn't really. But don't, uh, don't tell anyone else, huh? I think a couple of them are starting to have second thoughts now."

Chuck lifted his eyebrows and turned to glance over his shoulder. "What about? I think this is kinda cool. We get pretty high quality tents, the sleeping bags look all brand new and comfy, we have our own super intensely fit survival guide…"

"You noticed that, too, huh?"

He took in her amusement and realized why she was eyeing him so closely. "No! I mean, yeah I noticed. I mean, the guy is built like a freakin' Michelangelo statue. But I'm not…I didn't _notice_ notice. I mean…What's that? Is that a bear? Oh wow." He pointed over her shoulder as she grinned up at him. God, she had the sweetest, happiest laugh he'd ever heard in his life.

"Are you always like this? Because Quentin just said we need a buddy system during hikes and I was gonna ask you, but if you're gonna talk this much, it might draw some unwanted attention from the wildlife." She tilted her head a little and he thought for a moment that she might be flirting with him. But no. No way. Of course not. Why would she ever?

"Well. It might be a good idea to buddy up with me. Because when I ramble long enough, my pitch gets higher and higher and higher, and that might help to actually scare them off. It's an ear thing."

She giggled. "You're thinking of dogs. I don't think that applies to bears."

"Well, shit," he said with a shrug.

She laughed again. "No, but seriously. You wanna be my designated hiking buddy?"

"Only if you promise to fight off bears for me."

If he could just continue making her laugh for the next week, he'd be a happy camper. Literally. Because he was currently camping.

"I can't make that promise, unfortunately, because if I ever actually saw a bear, I would flip out. And run in the other direction probably."

"Okay, well we can be designated hiking buddies…and also designated running away from bears buddies. Deal?"

She grinned. "Deal. I'm Sarah. By the way." Sarah thrust her hand out for him to take and he did so eagerly.

"Chuck."

"Nice to meet you, Chuck."

He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. A lot.

"Everybody find a buddy?" Bro Quentin chuckled a little and Chuck snorted to himself, seeing Sarah give him a wry look in his peripheral. "Leave everything but your necessities at your tents," their guide said, grabbing his metal water bottle. "We'll only be gone an hour or two, tops."

Chuck headed over to his tent, subtly watching as Sarah crossed to hers. It was maybe twelve feet away from his and he tried not to think about how he had set his tent up first, which meant she'd put hers near his as opposed to anyone else's. Probably not on purpose, but still…

They were quiet for the first half hour of the hike, hanging further back in the group, listening to their guide talk about the plants: things to avoid, typical species, et cetera. And then he'd made a slightly off-color joke about what not to wipe with if you had to relieve yourself. Well, it made Chuck smirk, but he noticed one of the middle aged couples looked at each other with sour faces. And when they glanced his way, he immediately killed the smirk. Bro Quentin had winked at him, as though they'd just shared some sort of inside joke, and then they'd all continued on along the path.

The first day passed quickly, most of it consisting of setting up the campsite properly, getting the boundaries up, and safeguards from mountain lions, bears, et cetera.

And soon enough the sun had set, leaving them only in the barest sliver of moonlight, a fire roaring in between their tents that were clumped in between the trees.

They'd all sat around the campfire in a typical scene of late night camaraderie, talking about why they signed up for the trip, eating the food their guide had brought up with him in coolers. He'd promised the rest of their meals weren't going to be so easy.

And then everyone had wandered to their tents. Bro Quentin left last, making Chuck promise that he knew how to put out a fire properly. "Thanks to Smokey," Chuck had added. The guide laughed and pointed, "Good one, bro. Smokey's the man."

"Well, technically, he's a bear."

Quentin laughed again and ducked into his own tent that was more on the outskirts of their camp.

After ten or so minutes of being alone with the sounds of the wildlife surrounding them, the comforting crackle of the fire, Chuck picked up a stick and started poking at a log towards the bottom. He jerked back and nearly fell off of the rock he sat on when it shifted and sent a spray of sparks out of the flames.

As he huffed in amusement at himself, he heard a giggle behind him.

He recognized the giggle, but still turned to look at the source. Because who wouldn't want to look at her any chance they got? She stood just outside of her tent with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cool night breeze.

Chuck watched as she approached slowly, the firelight dancing on her gorgeous face.

"Were you this accident prone when you were in Boy Scouts?"

He snorted. "Ha. I was never in Boy Scouts."

Sarah halted next to his rock and looked down at him with a bit of a glare, her pointer finger poking out from the folds of the blanket. "Wait a second. When Quentin sent us to get firewood a few hours ago and I saw that log in the bushes, I asked you if that bush was safe to touch and you said it was and when I asked if you were sure, you said 'Absolutely. Scout's honor.' So what you're telling me is that you weren't a Boy Scout. You're just full of lies, aren't you?"

Chuck wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "I never would have told you it was safe if I wasn't absolutely sure, Sarah. I don't have to be a Boy Scout to know what a harmless fern looks like."

"It didn't look so harmless to me, okay? I can't trust anything you tell me anymore," she said, and he could tell by the way she pressed her lips together, her eyes shining with flickering firelight, that she was teasing.

"Yes, you can!" He gave her a cheeky grin and patted the large rock beside him, scooting closer to the edge to give her room.

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she sat next to him, and he was careful not to let any part of him brush against her in the meantime, reaching forward and poking at the fire a little.

"So why no Boy Scouts? I thought every little boy did that. Camping trips, whale watching, building little cars with wood and rubber bands and racing them."

"Nah, not me. It's expensive, first of all." She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on him. "And, uh, my parents weren't really around…much. So that was just an extra thing I'd have to walk to or pay for a bus ticket every time there was a meeting and…nah…"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I didn't miss anything! A kid in my class didn't come to school one Monday because he almost charred his eyebrows off trying to build a fire. Happened at Boy Scouts, just sayin'."

"Oh, kinda like what you almost did a minute ago?"

Chuck opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, then blew an unruly curl from his forehead. "Touché."

She giggled and they both turned to face the fire, watching it burn and spark, feeling the heat from it against their faces.

"So what are you still doing up?" he asked, glancing at her.

Sarah continued staring at the fire and shrugged slightly. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd see who was at the fire."

"Mm. Bet you were wishing it was Bro Quentin, huh?"

She made a face at him and then rolled her eyes, unable to keep from smiling though, he noticed. "Oh yeah. Definitely." Then she paused. "Hold on, _Bro_ Quentin?"

Chuck blushed a little. "Sorry, didn't realize I said that out loud. I call him…well, he calls me 'bro' all the time. So I've taken to calling him Bro Quentin in my head. And it sort of just tumbled out. Of my mouth."

"He better not call _me_ bro."

"Nobody would ever call you bro." She raised an eyebrow and gave him a long look. "I mean, 'cause…You aren't very bro-ish. Nobody could mistake you for a bro. I mean, you're a woman. So…Like, _definitely_ a woman. Have you ever had a s'more? We should do that. If you aren't tired." He turned away from her and shook his head at himself, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Would he ever learn to filter? He didn't know.

"A…what? S'more?"

Chuck turned back to her slowly, his features set in disbelief. "Wait. Wait, wait. Are you telling me you've never had a s'more?"

"Never heard of it."

Chuck continued to gape at her. "I—What? I'm sorry, I hate when people do the whole 'are you living under a rock?!' thing. It's just that…I've never met anyone who didn't at least know what a s'more was. You're a rare specimen, Sarah." He furrowed his brows when she widened her eyes. "I mean that in a really good way."

"Uh huh. Okay," she said doubtfully, smiling in spite of it. "So what is it? Food, I'm assuming."

"Only the best kind of food. It is _the_ American campfire pastime. It's fun, I'll show ya."

He climbed up from the rock and tossed his stick into the fire, heading over to his tent and crawling inside. It was dark…too dark to really even see what he was doing, but then the light from the campfire flooded in as he saw Sarah holding the flap to his tent up and peeking inside a little shyly.

He felt silly for thinking this was probably the closest he'd come to having a girl in his bedroom since college. He dug the box of graham crackers out of his pack, one of the Hershey bars, and the packet of large marshmallows. "This is all you need for the magic to happen. Oh, and, uh…sticks."

Chuck crawled out of his tent as she held the flap open for him. "Sticks? Oh, you roast the marshmallow with the chocolate and graham cracker. Like a Moon Pie!" she said a little too loudly.

He held up a hand. "Shhh shh sh. Careful, we don't want to wake anyone."

She gasped teasingly and followed him back to the campfire. "You mean you aren't sharing this with anyone else?"

"Uh, yeah I am. I'm sharing it with you, aren't I?" He made a face, sitting on the rock again and opening the box of crackers.

Sarah sat next to him again, snatching the bag of marshmallows from his grip and opening it with a smirk on her face. "I meant other people. You really aren't much of a Boy Scout, are you?"

That made him chuckle quietly. Because while he really wasn't opposed to sharing his s'more fixings with the others, he _was_ opposed to sharing his current companion. "I'm really not. Super selfish. More for us, right?"

"You don't even want to share with your boyfriend?"

Chuck choked a little, and couldn't contain his laughter. "Ooo, yeah. You know, Bro and I, we just share everything." She giggled, snorting a little bit. "In all seriousness, if BQ was out here right now…have you seen the way that guy is built? If he's anything like my sister's boyfriend Captain Awesome, he has the metabolism of a leech."

"Does a leech have a metabolism?" she asked slowly.

Chuck narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, pressing his lips together. "I don't really know. But you get the point I'm trying to make. The guy would eat fifty of these in one sitting."

"Probably not. He seems like a health freak."

"In that case, he'd steal all my fixings like Ben Stiller in _Heavyweights_."

She gave him a blank look.

"Uh, never mind. Movie of my childhood. It had a camping theme." Then he cleared his throat and stood up, setting the crackers and chocolate on the rock where he was just sitting. "I'll get us some sticks to roast with. Don't, uh…" He spun to face her and pointed, smiling a little lopsidedly. "Don't you move."

"I won't."

"Good."

And he walked away from her, scouring the ground for proper roasting sticks. He'd thought it was going to be a long week, what with all of the activities that were in the brochure. But that was before he met one of his fellow campers. Now he had a feeling the week was going to go by way, way, _way_ too fast.

As he felt Sarah's eyes follow him as he stooped to grab a stick that was prime for marshmallow skewing, Chuck Bartowski decided he was going to do his very best to make sure every last little thing counted.

* * *

 **A/N:** So continuing this isn't really on the docket, right now... But much like the *Dive*rse, ya never know. Please review! Let me know what you think. Thanks, folks!

-SC


End file.
